


A Thousand Miles and Poles Apart

by homosociallyyours, rayvanfox



Series: Let the Sky Fall [3]
Category: James Bond (Movies), James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-13
Updated: 2013-09-13
Packaged: 2017-12-26 10:22:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/964821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/homosociallyyours/pseuds/homosociallyyours, https://archiveofourown.org/users/rayvanfox/pseuds/rayvanfox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Q requests Bond’s presence in Q Branch under the pretense of creating a new gadget especially for him. The verbal sparring that ensues is enlightening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Thousand Miles and Poles Apart

Q requested Bond’s presence in Q Branch early one Monday morning under the pretense of creating a new gadget especially for him. The email doing so was short and without much explanation:

_“I’ll be taking scans of your eyes as well as monitoring a few of your physical responses. Though it shouldn’t take long, please prepare by getting plenty of sleep beforehand. As is always the case in Q Branch, you will need your mental faculties.”_

Of course the weekend still clung to Bond in the form of faint dark circles and sleepy yawns when he thought Q wasn’t looking. 

“Didn’t you get your rest, Bond? I thought I was explicit.”

“Of course I slept, Q. That doesn’t mean I played dead all weekend. What about you? Did you stay indoors staring at a screen from Friday afternoon till Sunday evening, or were you actually engaged in more interesting activities?”

“Interesting? Hm. I always find my weekends are filled with _interesting_ situations. Not that they need to be any concern of yours.” 

Bond raised an eyebrow and suppressed a slight smile. “Quite right, Q. Of course there’s no shame in having a weekend in, no dates, no drinks, just you and your laptop into the wee small hours.”

Q knew that Bond was merely goading him into giving details, so he turned the tables. “Well, you’ve just revealed the details of your weekend. Very telling, the way you describe what you think I didn’t do. So it was dates and drinks all weekend, then? How many lucky ladies did you woo? Three, four? Or perhaps just one special woman with a particular fondness for dangerous men in well-tailored suits?”

Bond spoke quickly and without humour, inadvertently quashing the banter. “There is no ‘one special woman’. Hasn’t been for years.” He turned away from Q to look at a work table full of gadgets and recover from the misstep. He probably should have had more coffee.

Q allowed a moment’s silence to let the tension dissipate. Bond was thankful for it. 

He’d been intrigued by the summons to Q branch and was hoping to take full advantage of Q’s attention and proximity to suss him out a bit more fully. However, his boredom and subsequent self-destructive habits over the weekend seemed to have taken taken a toll on his nerves. He felt more keyed up than normal. Maybe _less_ coffee would have been in order.

Worried that Bond’s outburst would set the mood for the day, Q tried to lighten his own tone to a playful ribbing as he said, “Bond, you're entirely too distractible. Get back over here.” It came out sounding more like a command than he intended, of course. 

Bond looked up from the table and shook off his brown study. “What? Oh.” He sauntered over to Q’s workstation as if their first aborted attempt at conversation hadn’t happened. “You've been holding out on me, there are gadgets over there that I've never been given lying around like they are a dime a dozen.”

Q raised an eyebrow at Bond’s comment. “Well. You'd probably treat them like they're a dime a dozen, but I can assure you that we can't afford to have them all ruined by the likes of you. I'm beginning to wonder if you even deserve this piece of equipment,” he said, gesturing to a computer generated model of the gadget. 

“I…” Bond opened his mouth, then closed it, mock indignant over having been promised something that might then be taken away so fast. In a playful tone he continued. “Don't you start berating me for something that is more slander than truth. I don't ruin _everything_. I take great care with many things I'm entrusted with on missions.”

“Oh really? Tell me the last thing you were given by Q branch that you didn't break,” Q said with a smirk.

“Um..” Bond thought as quickly as he could, but it was more of a challenge than he’d envisioned when he first spoke. “That radio. The tiny one. The transmitter.”

“The one that was destroyed?”

“No, it was…” Bond frowned. ”...dented, maybe. But it worked to get me out of dodge, which was the point. It had served its purpose and it didn't look that much worse for wear when I handed it in…”

“Oh, let’s see,” Q opened his desk drawer and moved aside a few items in search of the radio.

“Bloody hard to keep track of, clearly. So small.” Bond shifted on the balls of his feet.

Q extracted the slightly smashed transmitter and held it gingerly between his fingers. “Well, I still have it.” 

Bond face lightened. “There, it's still in one piece, innit?”

Q shook his head, but smiled as he said, “certainly, Bond. One very broken piece.” 

“I doubt you are keeping it for sentimental reasons, so it must work…” He put his hands in the pockets of his tracksuit bottoms instead of crossing them over his chest. “If it doesn't now it's something you've done to it since…”

Q raised both eyebrows at Bond’s attempts to evade responsibility for damaging the gadget. 

“Q, are you _trying_ to get me in trouble with the new M?”

“Oh, don't be daft, Bond. I don't have to try to get you in trouble with M. You do perfectly well on your own.” 

Bond leaned back on his heels. “Don't be churlish, Q.”

“I'm afraid I'll continue to be churlish as long as you continue to ignore my request that you focus on the task at hand.”

“I focus very hard on the tasks at hand, which is why anything that comes in handy gets used to the utmost.” Bond couldn’t help getting upset by this conversation, it was an old argument he’d been on the receiving end for well nigh seven years. “I'm sorry if I break your things trying to stay alive. If you would prefer my body in a box and all your toys intact, I'll see what I can do on my next mission.” His vocal volume had gotten away from him and he once again had to turn his back to give himself a moment to ease off. He wasn’t usually this easily riled.

Q sighed and shook his head, unsure of how his initial goal of bringing Bond to Q Branch for a morning of flirtatious banter had gone so far off the rails. “No, of course not. We--I--understand that these things may get broken. I only wish you'd use just a bit more caution with the equipment. Maybe even try to return one thing unscathed next time. In addition to yourself, obviously.”

“Sometimes it's me or the equipment, Q.” Bond’s back was still to his quartermaster, but his voice was calmer. “And it's never my choice.” He took a deep breath and let it out as he made himself turn around to face Q. “I'm not trying to aggravate you. I’d much prefer being on your good side.”

“And when it comes down to it, it should always be you who returns, not the equipment.” Q reached out and rested his hand briefly on Bond’s shoulder before turning back to face his computer. “Besides, you _are_ on my good side. Or at least not the bad.” 

The touch grounded his agitation and Bond was once again grateful for the chance to reset. He approached the desk, coming up level with Q, and spoke in a low register. “Mm, yes. I see what you mean. I'll remember to take photos of you in profile, then.” He turned his body fully towards Q, and inched slightly closer than necessary, intently focused on the side of his face.

It was possible he was making Q uncomfortable with his 180 degree change in mood, but he’d unintentionally let his guard down, which caused the inner guard dog to come out snarling. Not a good look. He hadn’t meant to get defensive and the moment there was an opportunity to turn things around, he took hold of it with both hands. 

Q waited a moment before reaching out for his mug of tea and taking a slow sip. Bond’s sudden shift in demeanor had him feeling vulnerable, and he wanted to regain some sense of control if he could. He cleared his throat before turning to face Bond, not flinching away in spite of the agent’s closeness. “Hm, right then. The last thing we'll need from you before we can get the final prototype built is an ocular scan.” 

The cue to stop messing about and get down to business was clear. Bond adjusted his stance. “Right. Of course.”

Q nodded his head toward the computer screen as he set down his mug of tea. “This particular device will use your eyes as its own unique passcode. There’s nothing quite like it yet, so what’s built from today’s work will be a prototype only.” Q busied himself with gathering a few loose papers. 

“I’m surprised you don’t have my entire body in virtual holograph by now. Hand prints, voice recognition, body size to the millimeter, and now, eye print, or whatever that is called?” Bond had leaned his hip against the work table and was trying not to watch Q’s hands as they fidgeted.

“This bit of tech is more detailed than the usual things,” Q said as he picked up a slim metal instrument that looked like something one might find in a futuristic film. “I planned on taking this particular scan myself.”

He smirked at Bond before adding, “although if you've suddenly developed the specific technological know how to use the old data, we could certainly do things your way.”

Bond quirked his eyebrow reprovingly at what felt like a jab, but kept his voice mild. “I was just assuming there weren't any parts of me you didn't already have information on. I've operated for a while on the assumption that there is not a bit of information about my body that MI6 doesn't know.” The corner of his mouth followed his eyebrow upwards and his expression turned suggestive.

Q smiled inwardly at Bond’s casual flirtation. “Oh, MI6 has its files and data, but there are certain details that only I know the importance of, and this is one of them. Now, if you'll stand there,” he said, gesturing toward a spot a few feet from his computer monitor, “and keep both eyes open, we can get started.” 

Bond blinked just thinking about having something that close to his eye. Something not under his own control, that is.

“Careful not to blink, please,” Q warned. 

Bond smirked. “Don't think of elephants.” He exhaled, half amused, half frustrated with the itch that immediately followed. Then he blinked. “Shit.”

Q bit back a smile. 

“Sorry. Give me a moment.” Bond closed eyes hard and let them water slightly.

Q laid his hand on the top of Bond's shoulder, squeezing it gently and feeling the natural tension held in his back. 

Bond took another breath and rolled his shoulders back, feeling Q’s hand follow the contours of his trapezius muscle, then opened his eyes with a penetrating gaze at Q’s face a foot away. “Okay. I’m all yours.”

Q released a breath he hadn’t been aware of holding in. “Right, of course.” He held the scanner to Bond's eye with one hand while keeping the other on Bond’s shoulder. “You know your eyes are quite an unusual colour?”

“How is blue unusual, Q?” Bond was watching Q’s face as he worked and allowed himself a subtle smile, figuring it would be overlooked. 

Q eyes were focused on the scanner’s display as he answered Bond. “I’ve actually compared the existing data against all our other agents, and the melanin ratio in your iris isn’t like that of anyone else. It's not the fact that they are blue, but the type of blue that makes them unique.” He watched as the device recorded the last of its necessary data before taking a small step back and looking into Bond’s eyes with a smile. “Just a point of interest. Other eye now.”

Bond was slow to speak, distracted by how Q’s smile lit up his face. “Hang on. May I blink?”

“Go on.”

Bond closed his eyes and kept them shut tight to get them to water once more.

Q allowed himself to step a bit closer to Bond, his hand settling once again on the top of Bond’s shoulder. 

Bond felt Q’s movements and, with his eyes still closed, spoke in a quiet voice that held a smile in it. “You know, I can't bring to mind what the colour of my eyes is, exactly. I don't tend to look that closely at them."

“No?” It surprised Q to think that Bond wouldn’t admire such a prominent and attractive feature. 

Bond’s mouth quirked at Q’s incredulity. “I only look at my face in the mirror to shave, and then I'm concentrating on what the razor is doing.”

The lack of cockiness in Bond’s tone made Q want to give him a straightforward compliment. “They're icy, clear, a cold, sparkling blue. Really, quite unusual to have attracted my notice.” 

“Attracted your notice?” Bond raised his eyebrows, his eyes still closed. “Who knew I didn't have to break all your toys to get you to notice me?”

“Have you finished blinking?” Q asked with mock impertinence. 

“Yes. Yes, fine.” He opened his eyes and tried not to wince at Q’s dismissal of his flirtation. “Have at it.”

Q cringed at his own misstep in dealing with Bond, and decided to shift the conversation back if at all possible. He wet his lips slowly before speaking, giving his voice a slightly flirtatious edge. “Of course they attracted my notice, that's why I developed this particular gadget for you.”

Bond focused very closely on Q's face, which was very close to his own. “Thank you, Q.”

“Certainly, Bond,” Q said with a slight smile. 

“I'm honored.”

“Oh don't be,” Q said, scoffing. “I make a point to learn about each agent in order to build the right tools for their specific skills.” 

“Ah. Of course.”

“Or features, as the case may be,” Q continued. 

“Still, nice to know someone's paying that close attention.” Bond couldn’t tell if Q was shying away from the suggestion of special treatment because they were at work, or because he didn’t feel Bond merited it. So much for sussing out his interest. Q played with his cards very close to his chest. Better luck next time, it seemed. “Are you finished with my eyes now?”

Q pulled the scanner away from Bond’s eye and smiled, but didn’t step away just yet, enjoying the last moments of contact before he’d be sending the agent away. “Yes, all done with that bit.” He finally did step back to set the scanner on his desk, staring momentarily at the computer screen before realizing he might not have to send Bond away. “Of course, if you'd like to stay around, it'll only be a short time before the prototype is complete. At which point we could run a few tests, make sure everything is working as planned.” He looked at Bond expectantly. 

Bond’s smirk was back. “As I've always believed, my body is yours to command.”


End file.
